


Punky Funky Love

by xl_tt



Series: Forty-three free throws [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: 1960s, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Getting Back Together, Gore, Light Angst, Lime, One Shot Collection, Other, POV Second Person, Post-Break Up, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Tokyo Ghoul AU, Yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 09:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10682610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xl_tt/pseuds/xl_tt
Summary: One-shot collection starring various KnB characters. Ranging from fluff and smut to angst and anything in between, nanodayo.





	1. Hanamiya Makoto - Would you?

**Author's Note:**

> **These are one-shots I started writing in April 2017. For the collection of works I wrote between August and December 2016, go to the series' list.**
> 
> Most of the posts are written from prompts I get [on my tumblr](http://aeteru.tumblr.com/), so if you would like to suggest something, you can do that there. 
> 
> The reader is usually gender neutral and since these are written after requests, the POV is in second person. I set Mature rating for the whole collection since some of the stories are nsfw, but I add a rating for each one-shot in chapter notes.
> 
> The title of this work is after one GRANRODEO's song which was featured in one of the KnB openings. _( :3 」∠)＿

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanamiya didn't expect you to come unannounced to one of his matches, and the fact that you hadn't known about his style of play complicated your relationship quite a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Details:** Teen and Up. Angst. Feminine reader. Swearing. [On tumblr here.](http://aeteru.tumblr.com/post/159163021730/for-hanamiya-makoto-id-love-to-see-a-scenario) I made a few adjustments to the request so it wouldn't be OOC.
> 
>  **Request:** For Hanamiya Makoto. I'd love to see a scenario where Mako is super shy and awkward when it comes to relationships, but is like the sweetest boyfriend. She's never been allowed to come to any games. To surprise him, she goes to one, and sees his play. She's disgusted and leaves him though he's devastated. Then Mako's trying to clean up his act for her with a ton of hilarious attempts at showing her he's sorry! Bonus points for Seirin shocked he's gone clean, and got a hot girlfriend XD

_Phone - check._

_Purse - check._

_Train pass - check._

_Earphones - check._

You finished running down your list, tied your shoes, locked the door, and set off. You had a big plan for today: you were going to surprise Hanamiya by coming to his game for the first time and possibly cheer on his team. 

Up until now, Hanamiya always found some excuse not just to keep you from watching him play, but even from meeting his teammates. 

It sounded to you like he was shy about it, or maybe he was afraid he’d get too distracted if he knew you were there to witness the match, so naturally your plan was to avoid being spotted by him for at least the majority of the game. You knew that his team was strong and brought home significantly more wins than losses, so depending on the score perhaps you could make yourself noticeable when the point gap was big enough for their advantage. Just in case Hanamiya actually _could_ get that much distracted.

You sincerely doubted that, though. While Hanamiya cared about you in his own weird, slightly twisted, slightly reluctant, slightly clueless, sometimes even sweet sort of way, he wasn’t someone who could get distracted too easily.

As such, half an hour later you stepped out of the train and full of excitement you headed for the gymnasium. He had told you that the closest upcoming game should be interesting, particularly because of the team they were playing, so you thought that maybe the opponents had an unusual style, or maybe they were past friends with Hanamiya, or maybe they wouldn’t play fair. 

You did hear some rumours, after all, about a school that had a bunch of players who didn’t hesitate from injuring boys from the other team and using various nasty tricks in general. Gross. Whatever school it was, you wished it to lose all their games until all the players graduate.

“I feel bad for that team…”

You were walking in the same direction as a group of girls ahead of you and exactly when you were passing them, you accidentally tugged at the cord of your earphones and one of them slipped out of your ear, just in time to hear that comment from one of them.

“Yeah, it’s those nasty guys playing today. My aunt was to one of their games last year, you wouldn’t believe what they were doing, and none of the referees did anything!”

“Wasn’t there a point guard that had his shoulder dislocated last month?”

“I’ve heard about this! And aunt said that last year one guy had his knee completely busted, apparently he couldn’t play for the whole rest of the year. This is ridiculous, how are they even getting away with that?”

Your heart stopped for a moment.

“U-uh, excuse me…?” you uttered. The girls stopped talking and stared at you curiously. “You mean, I’ve heard there was a horrible team that does those things, but I thought that was an exaggeration. And they are playing today? What time?”

“Uummmm…” The girl that mentioned her aunt looked at her phone. “In 15 minutes, I think.”

Her friend glanced at a schedule leaflet and nodded.

“Seirin and Kirimisaki, that’s the match.” She pouted. “Poor guys. I hope nothing too bad happens.”

“It’s Kirisaki, not Kirimisaki,” the other corrected.

“Oh, right.”

“Thank you,” you said blankly and quickened your steps.

You nearly had trouble breathing with how nervous and worried the new information made you.

So the school from the gossip was Seirin.

And Hanamiya was going to play against that delinquent team.

_What if something happens to him?_

_Didn’t that girl say that a player had his shoulder dislocated in a match against them? And someone with a damaged knee?_

You shoved a tangled mess of your earphones into your bag and hurried into the sports centre building. You wanted to go wherever it was the referees were having a break between matches and talk to them, but you only got as far as asking a receptionist where they could be found - she told you that there was no way you could speak to them before all the matches for the day were over.

Full of worry, you found yourself a spot right in the first row (using your charm to get one boy to give up his seat for you), and you sat down, biting your lips and clenching your fists in your lap in worry.

The Seirin team didn’t look particularly impressive, although they did have two very tall players. Number 7 was wide-shouldered and his face had something about it that resembled a bear, and the other tall one, number 10, had wild red hair and a rather constipated, angry expression. You suspected that it could be him that was probably causing the most damage. You observed them begrudgingly.

Kirisaki’s team were warming up like they were unaware of the danger, and Hanamiya himself - smiling politely - talked to one of Seirin’s players. The latter then returned with a sour look on his face.

You gulped, wrinkling the hem of your skirt in your fingers.

The game started.

You didn’t notice at first, too focused on watching Hanamiya himself in fear that he’d be the first target of foul play. You didn’t notice, because you were expecting to see _Seirin_ pulling dirty tricks and fooling the referees.

Then you saw Kirisaki’s number 7 and 8 pairing up and bumping into Seirin’s tall brown-haired number 7 with way too much force and precision for it to be accidental, especially when you noticed that another Kirisaki player blocked the referee’s view at the exact same moment.

It only went downhill after that.

You stared with your hand pressed to your mouth, too shocked to hear upset comments from the spectators around you. Cogs in your mind were working on overdrive.

Sure, Hanamiya was never a particularly pleasant person, at least towards people other than you and his mother, and from time to time you could pinpoint a rather sadistic switch in his attitude, but this…

You were so engrossed in your thoughts that you realised you weren’t paying attention to the court, and when you focused on it again, you almost cried out.

Seirin’s number 7 was laying curled up on the floor, clutching onto his knee. His face was twisted in pain.

Hanamiya was standing a couple metres away, one hand on his hip, looking not a single bit concerned. He was too far away and turned sideways to where you were sitting, so you couldn’t see his expression well, but you could’ve sworn there was a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Didn’t Kirisaki’s captain just snap his fingers before this happened?” a girl next to you asked in a weak voice. “He gave a signal, didn’t he? What is wrong with those guys?”

“Aaargh, Seirin’s captain can’t keep it together now…”

“Seirin’s 10 just almost punched that Kirisaki fringe guy!”

“This match is horrifying…”

That was enough.

You got to your feet, still pressing your hand over your mouth, and made your way out of the court hall, to the corridors and sat on the wide stairs outside of the building. You leaned forward and clutched your head in your hands. You were on the verge of tears.

Some people also walked out of the match, judging by what and in what in tone they were talking about.

“This is absolutely disgusting! I refuse to watch this any further,” one middle-aged man said to another. “What are those referees doing? Nothing of the sort would ever happen in our times. Outrageous!”

“That Seirin kid looked really badly injured,” the other said. “Didn’t Yamada from our team back in middle school get his knee damaged for good like that?”

“That was the last match he played in, if I remember well. Couldn’t partake in P.E. class afterwards either.”

“Well, at least Kirisaki Daīchi has no chance of winning this one already. Good riddance.”

“Someone should teach them a hard lesson soon, spoiled kids from a rich school have no respect for anything now. Back in our day…”

The two strode away, still loudly discussing between themselves.

You didn’t realise how much time had passed until more people started leaving the building, but you still didn’t raise your head.

That was, until you heard someone talking about you.

“Oooh, look, seems like this cutie is too frail of heart to watch a game. Oooi, you there, you alive, bubbles?”

You scowled and without sparing the guy a glance, you lifted your hand and showed him your middle finger.

Some other guys laughed and then you straightened up to glare at them.

It was Kirisaki Daīchi’s team.

Hanamiya recognised you instantly and his face went from his usual earthy pale to almost white.

“Hara,” he drawled, still perfectly controlling his voice, “shut your mouth.”

“Eh?”

You recognised Hara as the fringe guy that Seirin’s 10 almost punched during a break. Hara blew a bubblegum bubble that then burst and covered his lower face in a sticky layer.

“What’s up, cap’?” he turned to Hanamiya, using his index finger to get the gum back into his mouth. “You fancy her?”

“Hara… just how low your IQ is?” Kirisaki’s player with a mole in the middle of his forehead and his hair slicked back with a gross amount of gel yawned tiredly. “ _That_ is obviously his girlfriend.”

“I thought it was all bullshit,” Hara said with a mix of amusement and surprise. “Who the fuck in their right mind would date _you_ , cap’?”

“You’ve got the answer right before… wait, I was about to say _right before your eyes_.” One with empty, fish eyes pointed out. Redhead that you recognised as number 8 snorted.

“Fuck off.” Hara finished gathering his bubblegum and blew another bubble, with the same result as previously.

“Oi! What are you doing to that girl?!”

You stared between the gathered Kirasaki team to see Seirin’s players standing not far behind them, observing the scene with suspicion and unrest crawling beneath their feet.

“Leave her alone, fuckers!” It was the wild red-haired number 10 that bellowed again.

“Off you fuck, chopstick eyebrows!” Hara shouted back. Kirisaki’s redhead started laughing so much he almost doubled over.

“I’m fine!” you called, speaking up for the first time since you sat down on those stairs. “I can manage on my own!”

“Are you sure you-”

“I don’t need anyone here!” You stood up, spine stiff and face in an angry grimace directed at Hanamiya. Your eyes felt sore and stinging.

For whatever reason, both teams stopped talking and just watched as you walked up to Hanamiya. They watched like hypnotised while you took a wide swing and slapped his face landing a hit so loud that your ears wanted to scramble into your head. Hanamiya’s head tilted to the side a little with the force and his eyes widened in disbelief and irritation.

“The fuck you are doing?” he growled, grabbing you by the wrist, probably to drag you away from the spectators, but you tore yourself out and stepped back.

“That’s what you really are?” you asked in a trembling voice. “Really?” You pinched your lips, trying to keep your chin from shaking. “And you’ve been lying to me all this time? _All this time?_ What…” You chocked on your breath and felt the first tear drip down your cheek. “What do I matter to you, then? Anything at all?!” Your shoulders flinched with a sob and you wiped your eyes angrily. “You’re disgusting!” 

Hanamiya touched the furious red handprint on his cheek, staring at you with an annoyed scowl.

“You- I’m- I’m done,” you uttered. “I don’t want to see you ever again.”

Hanamiya opened his mouth to say something, but you shoved him aside and set off _fast_ , marching ahead and not looking back.

“You get fucking BACK HERE!” he yelled. “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE TO LEAVE!”

“Holy fuck,” Hara muttered.

You quickened your step, ran between shocked Seirin players, to wherever you could hide immediately and get a hold of yourself before going home.

* * *

Three months passed before you heard anything about Hanamiya again, or to be more precise, about the Kirisaki Daīchi basketball team.

“Hey.”

You didn’t turn in your seat to glance at your classmate who sat behind you in maths class. You were in the middle of eating your lunch and minding your business, and not in the mood for talking. You didn’t want to be too rude either, though.

“Yeah?”

She must have realised you weren’t going to look at her, so she walked up to your desk herself, dragging her chair behind her. She sat down, sipping on her strawberry milk.

“Tsuchida from volleyball team said that Nagakura from basketball team said that Kirisaki Daīchi’s basketball team have a coach now. They didn’t have one before?”

“Why are you asking me?” you droned in annoyance. “I’ve got no business with anything nor anyone in Kirisaki.”

“You’re dating their captain, aren’t you? I’ve just heard that that new coach is pretty young and cute, so I thought-”

“I’m not dating anyone from that school,” you said plainly. “And I’m not planning to either, their basketball team gave me enough of a first impression to stay away from there.”

“But you’ve been there before? Right?” she pushed on and you were afraid you had a headache coming by now. “I just need someone to introduce me there, I really want-”

“Forget it,” you muttered, putting away your chopsticks. “Ask that Nagakura or something. It makes more sense than asking me, doesn’t it?”

“But-” The girl gulped, clenching her hand on the small carton of milk. “Nagakura is a guy. How can I go check out a guy if I _have a guy with me_?”

_What the hell is your problem?_

“Aren’t there some other cute young coaches around?” you groaned. “Why are you even so fixated on this? Who cares about some guy you only heard that is cute and who is like 10 years older than you anyway?” You sighed, closing your bentō and wrapping the cloth around it. “Besides, there is no way they have a new coach, Ha- _their captain_ coaches for them himself. They don’t need one as long as he is on the team.”

You hunched over to shove the box into your bag and frowned when a realisation hit you. You straightened up and stared at the girl suspiciously.

“Who told you to convince me to go there?” you asked.

“Huh…?”

“Oh, please.” You scowled. “Why else would you tell me a story about a nonexistent coach and beg me to take you to that school? What kind of sense does that even make?”

“I-” The girl pinched her lips. Her face flushed red. “Uh, he said he’d tutor me for chemistry class if I…”

“ _Chemistry_ ,” you repeated tiredly. “Nice. If you do have a way to contact him, tell him to fuck off. And don’t count on having him tutor you, hell would rather freeze over.”

“I- I see…” she mumbled. She sighed and stood up to drag her chair back to her desk. “That with the new coach is true, though, Nagakura really said that.”

“So what,” you muttered to yourself.

* * *

[00:15 AM] Unknown number: I want to talk.

You stared at the message. The number it was from wasn’t on your contact list, not any more, but you had memorised it a long time ago and you didn’t need to check to know who the text was from.

So, naturally, you didn’t reply.

[00:25 AM] Unknown number: One time. I’m in the park.

You didn’t need to ask for details about the location either, there was only one park that Hanamiya would mention like this - one that was across the street from your house, one where you used to meet up every couple of days. 

You could sense at the back of your head a “get your ass here” that Hanamiya had definitely added and deleted from the message before sending it.

You shrugged and switched the bedside lamp off, fully intending to just go to sleep, but you were too agitated and too irked to simply turn off your phone and ignore him again.

[00:31 AM] Me: Not interested

 _Then_ you turned off the phone, closed your eyes, and wiggled into a comfortable position.

* * *

You didn’t sleep much that night, though.

You were not prepared for what happened the following morning.

You left your house on time, sleepy, with a headache, and already irritated at the nasty weather - cold rain and wind. You opened your umbrella and headed for the bus stop, which was the easiest to get to through the park. You couldn’t help but imagine Hanamiya loitering by the gate late at night. Had it been raining back then already?

There was no one by the gates now, of course.

“Exactly on time, as usual.”

You flinched, almost dropping your umbrella.

You halted.

Hanamiya was standing a couple of steps further, with the hood of his waterproof jacket pulled over his head and his hands shoved in his pockets.

“What do you want?” you asked reluctantly.

“I told you before, idiot.” Hanamiya rolled his eyes. “ _Talk._ ”

“Well, _I_ don’t want to,” you snarled. “I’ve got better things to do than to listen to another bunch of lies. I wasted more than a year on that already. You don’t understand what _not interested_ means? You’re a lying, sadistic, horri-”

“ _I apologise_ , all right?!” Hanamiya cut in. It seemed like he didn’t predict it to come out that loud. “Yes, I lied to you!”

“You’re not even a bit sorry about it,” you said. “And don’t say you are, because now that would be one hell of a bullshit.”

“I’m sorry it turned out like this.” Hanamiya raised his head and stared you directly in the eyes.

You snorted.

“And just _what else_ did you expect?” The corner of your mouth twitched in a sad excuse for a smile. “That I would never notice? You think I’m stupid?”

You remembered how months ago, in some laid-back moment, you asked a similar question and got an “obviously” in reply, followed by teasing and-

Now Hanamiya said nothing.

He shrugged.

“I guess what I expected was to both have fun on court _and_ have a girlfriend who wouldn’t filter her view on me through it.”

“That worked out well,” you said dryly. 

“I got rid of the former.”

“Huh?” You raised your eyebrow. A gust of wind ripped through the park, sending nasty, freezing shivers down your spine.

“Someone ratted us out to the school administration and after a list of verbal shit from them, we were assigned a coach.” Hanamiya’s expression darkened.

“Someone _ratted you out_?” you repeated in disbelief. “ _You?_ Knowing what you could do to them?”

He shrugged again.

“Why does it matter anyway?” you asked. “It’s not like there’s any proof for what you and your team did. And you’ve got the brains to slip out of that. Unless…”

“Whatever,” he interrupted you. “The result is what it is. Now you-”

“You said ‘ _I_ got rid of it’. That’s what you said.” You frowned. “Did _you_ actually bust _your own team?”_

Hanamiya stared at you without a word, without any expression on his face. Another strong gust of wind swept through your surroundings, turning your cheap umbrella inside-out and tugging Hanamiya’s hood off his head. You swore under your nose, struggling to put your umbrella back into shape despite that it was now broken in four spots. Hanamiya didn’t bother to slip his hood back on. 

“Come back.” 

You halted in the middle of bending one of the broken metal ribs and you looked up at him without raising your head. His hair was already soaked in the rain and his lips turned pale in the cold. 

“Why?” You gave up on the umbrella and folded it haphazardly, taking out your pent up anger and pain from the past three months on it. “Why would I do that? You lied to me for more than a year, you take me for granted, you hurt and severely injure people for fun… what exactly makes you think I’d want to be with such a sick, twisted monster?” 

“Because you love me.” 

The temperature had been low since you left your house, but it was only now that you felt like your blood froze over in your veins and stopped your heart. 

“Even if I did, I still have a brain and a good sense of self-preservation,” you snarled, but your voice lacked any sufficient force. 

“ _You love me_.” 

Hanamiya stepped closer and the fine hair on the nape of your neck stood up stiff in inquietude. 

“You disgust me,” you hissed, stepping back to even the distance. Water was dripping down the slope of your nose and falling from the ends of your damp hair. You clenched your fingers on the useless umbrella. 

“I never took you for granted.” 

You tilted your chin up and let out a short, humourless laugh. 

“Good one.” You wiped your wet hair off your forehead. There was no way you would attend lectures today already - you had a big chance of developing a nasty cold in your state, though. 

“ _I_ love you.” 

“Like I would ever believe that!” you yelled. You were glad that no one else was in the park. 

This time it was you who took a step closer. You couldn’t discern whether you were shaking from cold, from anger, or because you were on the verge of bursting into tears. 

“Why else would I be here?” Hanamiya scoffed like you’d just insulted him. “Why would I bother dragging my ass here and stand in fucking rain for a whole n-” 

He stopped talking. He dipped his head and first covered his eyes with one hand, and then rubbed his temples. 

“Just- just come back. I’m tired.” He ran his hand through his soaked hair, slicking it backwards on his head. “I told you I’m not going to… _injure people_ on court.” 

“You were lying to me,” you rasped. “You were lying all that time, such huge, awful lies.” 

“You are more concerned with the fact that I was lying rather than about what I was doing…?” Hanamiya tilted his head, watching you with a tiniest hint of disbelief. “Are you… what…?” 

“Relationship-wise,” you reassured him with a bitter smile. “Because that’s what we are talking about. Don’t even dream I’d ever approve of that. What you are doing out there is bloody awful.” 

“ _I told you_ ,” Hanamiya growled in annoyance, “that there is no way to do that with that coach watching us up close all the time. And…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “And not everything I said was lies anyway.” 

“Oh yeah, that’s reassuring,” you commented dryly. 

You hated despite all he did, all the atrocities he committed, all the things he lied about, how despite all that you still wanted to walk up to him and press yourself close, and bury your face in his shoulder and let yourself be embraced. You thought you were at least a bit over him after those three months, and perhaps that was true to some extent… 

But it all crumbled within minutes after you saw him today. 

Part of you was shrieking in your mind to get away and not look back, but it was slowly losing the fight with the whole choir of shouts and screams to break through it, to listen to Hanamiya and give in. 

“Why?” you whimpered, smiling at him hysterically. You pressed your hand to the side of your head and bit into your lips. Tears finally overflowed your wide open eyes and mixed with the rain shining on your face. “Of all people, _why_ did I have to get _you_?” 

You could see how he sensed a chance for victory in the air surrounding you, how that realisation glinted briefly in his eyes and how his eyelids narrowed for a moment. He was barely two or three steps away from you. 

“No one will dare to disturb you,” he said. It wasn’t a promise, it was a statement, and you knew under your skin that he meant every word of it. 

And that it wasn’t necessarily a good thing. 

“I will not allow anyone to harm you. Or else.” 

You shuddered. Your body was cold through and through, your knuckles red and dry and your lips were chapped raw. 

Hanamiya reached out his hand to you. 

You stared at it like hypnotised. 

“Come back,” he repeated quietly. 


	2. Imayoshi Shōichi - A certain kind of research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting your ex-boyfriend two years after you had broken up didn't exactly go the way you could've expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Details:** Teen and Up. Angst. Lime. Female reader. Some swearing. [On tumblr here.](http://aeteru.tumblr.com/post/159487391025/scenarios-for-mibuchi-liu-and-imayoshi-they)
> 
>  **Request:** Scenarios for Mibuchi, Liu, and Imayoshi: they save their shy and innocent ex-girlfriend, who they happen to meet in a bar, when she gets hit on a guy. After dragging the girl away from the place, they get into a fight and the topic of their past is brought up. Semi-nsfw, with looots of kisses and very heated making out. Heavy angst, but they get back together in the end or something similar. Please and thank you :D
> 
>  **Other characters from the request:** [Mibuchi](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10682610/chapters/24376701), [Liu](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10682610/chapters/23695338).

“How do people even do it?” you muttered to yourself, leaning your chin on your hand, idly watching your colleagues owning the tiny dance floor to music that you’d rather not listen to ever again.

“Do what?”

You glanced to your side.

_Oh, great._

You forced a smile on your face before you tried to compose your thoughts into something that would not offend your 50-years-old, married, successful boss, an iron fist of the entire company.

“Find someone for good and get married, ma’am?” you asked hopelessly. “And stay like this? For _years_? How, ma’am?”

“Ah, you poor girl, did your relationship not work out again?” she cooed pityingly. You hoped your lower eyelid didn’t twitch at that last word she added. “I see, I see. It must make you feel lonelier, attending a maid’s last party before marriage.”

“Not at all,” you protested, doing your best to sound convincing. “It’s very uplifting to see that it _can_ happen, ma’am. It is. I… only… need more… luck?”

You looked at your soon-to-be-married colleague, who was at the moment dancing with the secretary lady and by some miracle not sloshing out the contents of her drink. Your own glass was nearly empty, but it would take way more than this to get you at least tipsy.

There were also three guys at the table next to yours, and you didn’t like the way they were observing your group.

“It will come to you,” your boss said reassuringly. “I know how upsetting it is, but you will find what you are looking for.”

“I hope so, ma’am.” You sighed. “Excuse me, I’ll go for a smoke.”

You weren’t going for a smoke.

No. But sitting there and dissolving in that happy atmosphere like in a barrel of acid was becoming unbearable and you needed a break.

 _Find what I’m looking for, huh_ , you thought.

You pushed the door open and headed straight for a bench a couple of strides away. The choice of the place was in your opinion at the very least disappointing, on the outskirts of the city and in a vicinity of some factory, it seemed, if the noise and smell was anything to go by. Apparently, the place belonged to the secretary’s husband.

“Everyone gets married,” you mumbled, kicking aside a lone pebble. You sat down and looked up at the blind, light-polluted sky.

It wasn’t that you treated marriage as an ultimate, one and only goal in your life, but it _was_ somewhere on your list and it had never seemed to be as far away from you as it was now. Within the past two years, you had been in a few relationships that proved unsustainable in a longer run, and before then…

Before then, there had been Imayoshi.

Shōichi.

You frowned. It couldn’t be. Had two years really passed already? When?

You leaned forward and hid your face in your hands with an exasperated sigh. There was another reason why you disliked the location picked by your lucky colleague. It was too close to where Imayoshi and you used to live together and you were fairly certain that he still lived in the same flat. You didn’t expect anything of the ‘he could appear here’ kind, but the proximity itself was making you feel worse than usual.

You let your mind wander, create imaginary situations in which Imayoshi by some wild accident decided to pass by the bar and saw you, and he’d want to reconcile, and…

… or maybe you’d fall asleep on this bench and he’d wake you up with his usual smirk and he’d teasingly question your poor resting spot choices…

… or perhaps the bar set on fire and the mishap was on the news, and Imayoshi saw you on tv and he’d restlessly rush to your side to make sure you were unscathed and he’d ask to get back together…

… or what if a sudden war broke out in Japan and he’d frantically search around for you and then you’d unexpectedly meet and fall into each other’s arms…

… or you walked down that same street you used every day when going to work, and Imayoshi was walking from the opposite direction, and you saw each other, but then a sniper hired by a rival company shot you (a person at the bottom of the company’s food chain), and you’d be dying, and Imayoshi would hold you in his arms, and cry, and apologise, and… 

That was just stupid. 

You heard the bar door open and the three guys that you had been wary of appeared and left without sparing you a single glance. You blinked and rubbed your temples.

You stood up and returned to the bar, none the happier. The secretary was sitting where you used to and she was laughing her lungs out with the boss; the lucky colleague and two other coworkers were dancing in a circle like primary school kids… and then there was you. Standing at the door, scowling a little at the loud music, and wishing from the bottom of your heart to crawl back to your empty flat to thoroughly marinate in self-pity.

You wondered whether enough time passed to make an I-have-a-headache excuse and sneak your way out of this hellhole, but before you had a chance to decide, something made you realise that standing at the door was not the brightest idea.

The something was having the door winged right into your back with enough force to make you stumble and crash into some guy who was walking towards one of the tables.

And the guy thought you were _hitting on him_. You hadn’t managed to let out a single word before he had his arm draped around your shoulders and he was pulling you towards wherever he had been going earlier - and contrary to what you had thought, it wasn’t a table. He was going towards a door that had a ‘do not enter’ written on it in letters big enough to be visible in the dim light.

“I-I have to tell my friends where I’m going first,” you said quickly, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Please wait a moment, I’ll be right ba-”

“No no nonono, I don’t think so.” The guy winked at you. “They will just make fun of you if you tell them what you will be doing.”

“Still, they’ll be worried.” You gave him your best faked smile from your collection. “Really, I’ll be right back.”

“She won’t be back.”

Your expression washed out and then tensed into complete shock.

The guy let go of you and turned around to argue with whoever dared to interrupt him, but he didn’t have time to open his mouth before the other spoke again.

“How much do ya weight?”

“Huh?”

“How much do ya weight?” he repeated, slower. You stared over your shoulder and sure, there he was, Imayoshi goddamn Shōichi himself.

“Like fuck I know how much I weight.” The guy was confused to the point that he seemed to have forgotten about you. “About 60? Why the fuck are you even asking, you pervert?”

“I’ve beat idiots who weight 90 to the ground,” Imayoshi replied calmly. “Take yer guess how much less effort it will take me to make ya bite gravel for the rest of the night.”

Then he smirked.

“Well? What’s it gonna be?”

The guy glared at him with poorly masked hesitation and he walked away without a word.

“Ima-”

“How about some heartfelt thanks?” Imayoshi turned to you and you realised with a sting in your chest that you didn’t remember how to discern the tones in his seemingly identical smirks.

It may had been two years, but you didn’t expect you could forget such a thing.

“I didn’t need you to do anything,” you grumbled, not breaking the eye contact. “I was about to get out of this by myself.”

“Of course, I’m sure you were.” Still the same smirk.

“Eat shit, Imayoshi,” you hissed. “You’d made it clear you had no business with me two years ago, so keep at it and get lost.”

So much for your imaginary lovestruck reunion.

“Twenty-one months,” he said smoothly. “That’s not full two years.”

It was twenty-one months.

“Well then, see ya.” He frowned. “No, better not.”

And he left.

It took you less than a half a minute to dash outside after him, not entirely sure whether you were more angry, sad, or desperate. You assumed he would be going home, and sure enough, you caught up with him in the shortcut narrow alley you used to pass through together on your way to the train station. It wasn’t an alley that you’d ever like to step into alone, though.

Imayoshi must have heard your footsteps long before you reached him and to your relief, he stopped and stared at you over his shoulder. It was too dark for you to see what his expression was, but you knew that he wouldn’t have waited for you if he didn’t want to at the very least talk.

“Do you realise what you are doing?” he asked in a level, unemotional voice. “I really wasn’t planning on explaining anything to you for the 50th time, just how bad is your memory?”

“Right back at you!” you snarled. “How many times do I have to tell you that I got over it and I didn’t mind-”

“And what can you know? You don’t have any idea what we do.” Imayoshi took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You are better off not knowing anyway. You don’t fit with us, you don’t belong with us, and I don’t have the patience to keep you out of trouble that you would be constantly getting into if you joined.”

“It’s been two years, moron!” You rested your fists on your hips. “I did my research!”

“You did your research.” Imayoshi looked at you blankly. “Are you even se-”

“And even without that everyone knows what yakuza does,” you scoffed.

“You’d have to marry me if you want to get in.” He smirked, probably convinced that you’d backpedal at his statement. He put his glasses back on.

“In modern times that’s not true…”

“Just _where_ did you do that research?“

“… not that I’d mind doing it.”

Imayoshi’s hands froze in midair from where he was just dropping them down from his face.

“ _Say that again._ ”

“I said,” you grumbled, “that nowadays a woman doesn’t have to _marry_ into yakuza. And I also said that I wouldn’t mind either way.” You clicked your tongue. “Or I wouldn’t have minded two years ago.”

Imayoshi answered nothing and you stared at each other in silence for a while long enough for every word you had just spoken to settle like dust. You sighed and eventually looked away.

“And that’s how things were,” you summed up tiredly. “I’m going back now. Bye.”

You took a step back.

“How about now?” Imayoshi asked in a voice heavy with suspicion. Not _hope_. Suspicion.

“Eh?”

“Would you still do it?”

You turned your face away from him without breaking eye contact.

“Why would you care? It’s been two years.”

“Twenty-one months.”

“Twenty-one months, whatever.” You snorted. “Makes no difference.”

“Well?” Imayoshi ignored your comment and took a step forward to even the distance. “Would you?”

You watched him sullenly for a moment before you shrugged.

“Yeah. I would.”

“That’s settled, then.”

“… _what?_ ” Your jaw dropped. “Was THAT a proposal?”

“Of sorts.”

_Ah, that was how I recognised the tones of his smirks._

This one showed that he knew exactly how ridiculous the situation was and he was challenging you to protest while also being sure that you wouldn’t.

Of course.

“Oh my god.” You plastered your palm to your face with resignation. “This was the absolute number one _worst_ proposal I’ve _ever_ heard of.”

“And yet, you accepted,” Imayoshi pointed out, utterly amused.

“I didn’t know it was _a proposal_ , you idiot! Who proposes like that?! In a nasty, dark, dirty alley in some suburbs?! In completely ambiguous words?! This is _not funny_!”

“But you’re laughing,” he said. You were laughing. “We can redo later.”

He started laughing, too.

The next moment you were slammed against the wall and Imayoshi was stealing breath from your mouth like he couldn’t breathe freely the past twenty-one months. His lips moved against yours fervently, teeth clicking against each other and tongues dancing a slow, heavy dance. His glasses got knocked askew when he angled his head to leave no space between you. His hands slipped under your top, touching every centimetre of your bare skin on your back, on your belly-

You pulled back a fraction to gasp for air when Imayoshi pushed your bra up out of the way, over your breasts, and he cupped one mound in his hand. He brushed his thumb over your nipple, greedily drinking in your reaction.

He bit into the junction of your neck and shoulder none too gently and you pulled his hair with a hiss in response.

It was only when his fingers dipped underneath the waistband of your jeans and your underwear at the same time, you pulled back and tugged his hand out by his wrist.

“You are so not putting an unwashed hand down my pants,” you growled.

“Fair point.” Imayoshi shrugged, gauging your mood with narrowed eyes. “How about something else?” He pressed his hips forward to grind against yours and you shuddered.

“Definitely not _here_ ,” you replied, struggling to sound convincing.

Imayoshi exhaled pretentiously.

“Yes, yes…” He stepped back and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You pulled your bra back into place and without the need for consultation, you both set off towards the flat you used to share and were most likely about to share again.

“I left my bag at the bar,” you mumbled. “I hope one of the girls will take it.”

“One of my friends will.” Imayoshi fished out his phone out of his pocket and typed out a short text.

You frowned.

“Don’t tell me… those three guys from back then…”

“How else would I have known you were there?” Imayoshi asked with a sigh.


	3. Liu Wei - Nagasaki in Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is not easy when you have no clue what's become of your beloved Liu - a foreigner who disappeared 6 months ago, in 1960's Nagasaki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Details:** Teen and Up. Angst. Fluff level over 9000. Female reader. Lime. [On tumblr here.](http://aeteru.tumblr.com/post/159487391025/scenarios-for-mibuchi-liu-and-imayoshi-they)
> 
> This is set in early 1960′s. What you need to know regarding that time that it’s a Chinese man we are talking here about and he’s in Japan, which in those times _really_ was not the safest place for him. Plus, this story takes place in Nagasaki. I think you can connect a dot or two here. Also let’s pretend that [Tsugaru kaikyō fuyu geshiki](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2eiUVBpO2mQ) was composed ~~way~~ a little earlier than it was, it fits here so nicely. Congrats: if you didn't sing well before (like me, I suck at that big time), now you are an Ishikawa Sayuri-sama level pro. Of enka genre even, you skillful beast you.
> 
> Can I just say how happy I am to write for Liu? I love him so much. (ღ′◡‵) Bless this request. I'm content how this story came out.
> 
>  **Request:** Scenarios for Mibuchi, Liu, and Imayoshi: they save their shy and innocent ex-girlfriend, who they happen to meet in a bar, when she gets hit on a guy. After dragging the girl away from the place, they get into a fight and the topic of their past is brought up. Semi-nsfw, with looots of kisses and very heated making out. Heavy angst, but they get back together in the end or something similar. Please and thank you :D
> 
>  **Other characters from the request:** [Mibuchi](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10682610/chapters/24376701), [Imayoshi](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10682610/chapters/23679732).

You closed your eyes, grazing the stand of your microphone with your fingertips and took a slow breath. Miss Araki played the intro of the currently popular song on the piano and you waited for your clue, mind blank and nose filled with the stench of cigarettes.

_When I got off the late night train_  
_That departed from Ueno,_  
_Aomori station was covered in snow._

You opened your eyes. The light directed at you blocked your view of the rest of the vast room, and with a little bit of inward convincing, you could nearly believe that it was only you, Miss Araki, and the unhurriedly swirling smoke in the entire bar.

_The crowd of people returning home north was silent,_  
_So I listened only to the rumbling of the sea._  
_I too board the ferryboat alone._

You heard an annoying masculine whistle originating at one of the obscured tables and with practised ease ignored it. You hoped that none of the American soldiers from the nearby station appeared tonight. They were often too troublesome and you didn’t have to understand their language to guess what they were saying to you and Miss Araki whenever they got an opportunity.

_Staring at the seagulls out there in the freezing cold, I cry._  
_Ah, the winter scenery at Tsugaru Strait._

You pinched your lips shut, idly listening to Miss Araki. This was not a song you wanted to play in your state, that was what you had thought, but now you didn’t care. Your mind was suspended in lifeless incoherence, and you moved and used your voice like a machine, devoid of your own self like an empty shell.

_“Look, that is Tappi Cape, the northernmost point,”_  
_Say strangers, as they point their fingers._  
_I tried wiping the glass window_  
_That has been clouded by my breath,_  
_But all I can see in the distance is mist._

That was how you had kept existing for the past six months. Head shrouded in heavy fog, or maybe cigarette smoke which was slowly but restlessly suffocating you. Your only Western dress was something entirely different from your everyday kimono; too tight on your shoulders and too loose at your chest and waist, the jets at the hem scratched your skin even through your stockings, and the thin straps made you feel unpleasantly exposed to the the audience.

_Farewell my love, I’m going home._  
_The voice of the wind shakes my heart,_  
_Bringing me to tears._  
_Ah, the winter scenery at Tsugaru Strait…_

Did you have any tears left? The latest weeks left you cold and desiccated, and you couldn’t bring yourself to shed a single tear any more.

_Farewell my love, I’m going home._  
_The voice of the wind shakes my heart,_  
_Bringing me to tears._  
_Ah, the winter scenery at Tsugaru Strait…_

You stood still, waiting for Miss Araki to finish this last song for tonight, unseeing eyes directed ahead. You bowed when she played the last note and she stood up to do the same.

“Thank you very much for coming this evening,” you said, putting a sweetly smiling mask on your face, bowing again. “Thank you very much for listening to us, honourable patrons. I wish you a good night.”

You both bowed once more and stepped out of the highlight, going straight for the room behind the bar. You sat down at the edge of a small table you had for preparing your makeup and rubbed your forehead.

“You should sleep more,” Miss Araki stated, closing the door. “You forgot lyrics three times today. You are fading.” 

She wasted no time in tugging her dress off over her head and slipping it onto a hanger. She pulled on her yukata, tied it up, and picked up a clean cloth and a jar of cleansing cream.

“I know that,” you said indifferently. You began undoing the hooks on the side of your dress. “I do not care about it.”

“You should,” she replied dryly. “Honourable employer will notice. He won’t like having a faking doll here. You’ll be kicked out.”

“I don’t really care about that either,” you muttered. You slipped the dress off, unclasped and pulled off your stockings, and picked up your kimono.

“It’s been months,” Miss Araki scoffed. “Stop being pathetic and forget him already. He probably ended up at the bottom of the river for all he’s worth here. Or he ran away. That would be for the best. For you and for him. Maybe he could make it to where he should’ve stayed in the first place.”

* * *

The streets of Nagasaki outskirts were radiating heat even at midnight, accumulated throughout the boiling midsummer day. You yawned openly, relishing in the fresh air after hours of inhaling smoke, and patted your sleeve to make sure you didn’t forget anything.

Just then two men left the bar and halted at the sight of you.

They were very tall, broad, with harshly chiselled faces and dressed in military uniforms. Soldiers. Your heart began racing anxiously and you took a step back when one of them said something that you didn’t understand, but his amused tone was enough to give you goosebumps.

Would you be able to pass them by and go back inside?

The other soldier stepped to an arms reach to you and smiled brightly. He spoke shortly and laughed before he patted your head like one would pat a meek animal, making your legs shake in fear. The first one addressed you, judging by his tone it was a question, and he approached you as well. He asked again, in a lower, teasing manner, and his hand slid down to pat your cheek.

You squeaked and stumbled back.

Right into someone.

You shrieked and tried to scramble away, certain that another soldier must have sneaked up to you from behind, but a warm hand held you back in place.

Even through the cloth of your kimono you could feel that the hand lacked the small finger and coupled with how the two soldiers had to raise their heads to look at the newcomer, you guessed who it really was.

“Begone. Immediately.”

There was no way that the two men understood what was ordered to them in Japanese, but they backed away, staring stupefied at the person behind you. Then they left, glaring at the two of you over their shoulders every couple of steps.

“I shall bring you to your quarters. There is no knowing should those pests have a change of mind.”

Up until now, you were standing frozen like a statue, but now you started shaking uncontrollably, so much that the coins in your purse that you kept in your sleeve were clinking. 

“Wei?” you called weakly.

“I am.”

You let out a choked wail and pressed a trembling hand to your mouth. You didn’t dare to turn around, afraid that the whole scene was a prank and it wasn’t actually your beloved Liu who standing behind you. He had other plans, though, and he lifted you up to cradle you in his arms and he set off down the street. Your pulse raced in the embrace. You couldn’t help losing yourself in his warmth and scent, you missed him so much, _so much_ …

“I dare presume the location of your quarters have not changed, would that be correct?” he asked quietly. There was a distance in his voice, so much of it that every single piece of your broken heart shattered into yet smaller shards.

You felt small, shrunk in your own body, and it had nothing to do with how tiny you were compared to his two metres tall worth of lean muscle. He had a new scar on his face, fresh and still pink, he was wearing western clothes and his hair was a little longer than you had last seen him. You half-consciously reached up to touch his cheek, to gently brush your fingers over that new scar, but he turned his head away.

“Please, do not,” he said blankly. “Please.”

And yet, he carried you in his arms and made no indication to put you down on your feet. There was something about it that contrasted with his aloof voice, rendering the latter untrustworthy when it came to expressing what he was thinking right now.

“Wei-”

“You needn’t converse with me, Miss,” he cut you off.

He climbed up the path leading along the high river embankment, clearly visible in the recently waning moon. The reed was soughing, swaying lightly in the lazy Summer wind and absorbing any distant noises coming from the city centre.

“Put me down.”

“We are yet far away from the destination,” he stated. "There truly is no reason-"

“ _Put me down!_ ” you hissed, pushing your palm into his chest. “Right now!”

He set you to your feet without a word, avoiding your gaze.

“Why are you like this?” you asked. Your voice broke. “Where were you all this time? _Why did you leave?_ ”

You had thought you had exhausted all your tears already, but you came to realisation that they had been simply bottling up the past weeks and waiting to overflow.

“Why did you leave?!” you lamented, slamming your palms into his chest like you wanted to push every word right into his heart, although with the difference in your weight you didn’t manage to as much as make him flinch. “Why did you leave me?! _Why did you leave me?!_ ” Tears poured down your cheeks when you withdrew your arms and cradled them to your breast.

Liu squeezed his eyes shut. His entire face twisted in hurt and he reached out his hand to cup your cheek, but right before that happened, he clenched his hand into a fist and let his arm drop back to his side.

“That is for the best,” he said tiredly. “No one will ever respect you if I dare stay in your proximity.”

“As if care!” you shrieked. Liu opened his eyes and glared at you in exasperation. “Who respects me here to begin with?! I work in a bar! I work evenings!”

“Your family name is respectable!” Liu yelled back. “You could find a good husband here and live with dignity!”

“My family’s had nothing to it but that name for three generations now! There’s nothing to inherit but that name!”

“I do not have even that! You shan’t find a single person who would welcome me with open arms in this entire country!” 

Liu ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled slowly. 

“I was working in Hiroshima. In many places. Saving money. I am going to…” He took a deep breath, but you didn’t let him continue.

“I thought you were dead,” you uttered. “I thought you were _dead_ …” You pressed your hands to the sides of your head and sobbed. “Do you have any idea how that felt? I was this close to throwing myself off the bridge every day the past weeks!”

“DON’T!”

“I couldn’t.” You laughed sullenly. “I couldn’t. I was still hoping that you would come back.” You wiped your eyes and gulped. “You should’ve told me. Not leave without a word. Not like this. But I still waited. I would wait as long as it would take.”

“I am leaving the country come September, for Europe,” Liu said. “I but came to see you once more.” He pinched his lips. “If it was not for what transpired out the bar doors, you would not have seen me. I do not deny that my heart is relieved for I could keep you safe, yet it would have been easier if you did not see me.”

“You’re not coming back,” you stated weakly. “Are you?”

“Indeed, I am not.”

“Well then.” You nodded to yourself. “Then I’m coming with you, that’s how it will be.” Liu opened his mouth to protest, but you stopped him. “Don’t you dare tell me I can’t and I should stay here. _I myself_ am going to decide what is best for _me_. And don’t say that you don’t wish it. You can say all you want about ‘what would be for the best’, but I know how you feel.” You exhaled shakily. “I know, Wei.”

Liu took a deep breath and his gaze lost its last remains of forced conviction.

“I had known I lost this argument the moment I took you in my arms.” He sighed. “But I find comfort in this defeat, my most beloved, sweetest Lady.”

All the tension left your bones so abruptly that you wavered and involuntarily took a step ahead to hold onto his forearm. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up above his elbows, so you touched bare skin, warm and familiar.

Liu knelt down on one knee - with his unusual height, he was still only a little below your eye level - and he cupped your face in his hands. They were rough and scratchy after all the physical work he had done since young age, but the tenderness they held for you was otherworldly.

“I caused you so much pain,” he whispered sadly. “I will pay my retribution in years to come.” He gently leaned you down and kissed your forehead. “I love you so dearly. So dearly…”

“My Wei,” you whispered back, “my Wei…” You cupped his face in your hands as well and with a relieved, hopeful sigh closed the remaining distance to his lips. Liu kissed back, but he pulled away after a moment and looked around.

“No one’s here,” you murmured. “It’s- _ah!_ ”

Liu lifted you up in his arms again and marched down the slope of the bank to the lower, less exposed level. Somewhere on the way your left geta fell off your foot and rolled away in the grass, but you paid it no mind, not when Liu set you down on the ground again and then he began unbuttoning his shirt.

Your jaw dropped and you pivoted to turn your back to him with a flustered gasp.

“Wha-wha-wha-what are you doing?!” you squeaked.

“I do not dare to attempt anything indecent!” Liu blurted out immediately and somehow, you were a little disappointed. “I simply would not allow myself to dishonourably let you sit on bare ground, my beloved Lady.”

You widened your eyes in surprise and laughed wholeheartedly. You hadn’t laughed so honestly and freely in months, in over half a year, and it was as if even the tips of your hair were happy.

“I’ve sat on bare ground countless times before. And besides, here we have good, green grass.” You giggled.

“Still…” Liu skimmed your hair out of the way and kissed the nape of your neck. “I have it in my disposition to prevent it.”

And then you were laying on his shirt spread on the ground and Liu was leaning over you, holding you close against his bare chest. He was pressing his lips to yours with desperation and hunger that had accumulated for way too long, groaning deep in his throat and breathing heavily through his nose. You moaned and arched your back to cling to him as tightly as you could, stroking his skin with your fingertips. 

You could’ve wondered what exactly was his definition of indecent when he strayed down from your face and trailed light, careful bites on your neck, going so far that he pushed the half-collar of your kimono aside with his chin. But you were too preoccupied with how it sparked something new in your gut, sliding your arms around his chest to dig your nails into his back and rake them down to leave rows of scratches.

Liu gasped against your skin and nuzzled your throat, stroking your neck with the pads of his fingers, nearly brushing them under your collar with longing.

“I… might have unconsciously spoken an unplanned lie to you,” he rasped. “I must shamelessly confess to the fact that I desperately desire to undress you… and more.”

“I still live alone in that old compartment,” you murmured, carding your fingers through his hair.

Liu raised his head and you pulled him down for one more slow, breathtaking kiss.

“Spend the night, Wei,” you whispered. “We’ll plan what to do from now on in the morning.”

Liu straightened up and helped you to sit up as well. He hugged you close and buried his face in your hair.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please love this story. I'm so happy how it went out. (T◡T)
> 
> Also: [here's a little continuation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10961346/chapters/31100208)!


	4. Mibuchi Reo - Still a fresh wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You got stuck being a third wheel while hanging out with your coworkers while you were still down in the gutter after breaking up with your boyfriend two months prior, and to top it off, you end up being harassed. What a fine evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Details:** Teen and Up. Angst. Feminine reader. Lime. [On tumblr here.](http://aeteru.tumblr.com/post/159487391025/scenarios-for-mibuchi-liu-and-imayoshi-they)
> 
>  **Request:** Scenarios for Mibuchi, Liu, and Imayoshi: they save their shy and innocent ex-girlfriend, who they happen to meet in a bar, when she gets hit on a guy. After dragging the girl away from the place, they get into a fight and the topic of their past is brought up. Semi-nsfw, with looots of kisses and very heated making out. Heavy angst, but they get back together in the end or something similar. Please and thank you :D
> 
>  **Other characters from this request:** [Imayoshi](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10682610/chapters/23679732), [Liu](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10682610/chapters/23695338).

“Life,” you mumbled, “inconceivably sucks.”

Your colleague nodded sullenly from across the small, round table.

“It's a widely known fact,” she mused. She gulped down her second shot and waved for another. On your right side, your other female coworker nodded, too, stirring the contents of her drink with a toothpick.

 _At least you are not the third wheel here_ , you thought sourly, watching your own glass. Untouched. Full. You didn’t really feel like drinking once you got a text from your third coworker. She bailed out on you, and here you were, stuck with a couple who naively thought that no one in the company was suspecting them of banging each other in the supply room.

Three times a week.

You rested your cheek on your palm and sighed. The bar itself disappointed you as well, way dirtier and murkier than you remembered it from two years ago. You’d like to leave, but you weren’t particularly eager to go home either. It had been barely two months since you had split up with Mibuchi and resuming stewing alone in a flat that was full of memories and still harboured his scent was not something you were up for tonight yet.

Reo.

You bit your lips and glared at your glass with double intensity. You were not going to cry here. No.

Last night you found his scarf when you were pulling out Autumn outerwear from your wardrobe and that was enough to get you curl up on the floor in a foetal position and whimper. Two months were nowhere near enough to get over a two-years-long relationship and a tiniest thing could make you crumble.

You clenched your jaw and squeezed your eyes shut for a moment.

“I’ll be right back,” you said brightly and stood up to head straight for the toilet.

You locked your stall and squatted down, forcefully pressing your hands to your face and praying you wouldn’t ruin your makeup with what was coming. You were struggling to breathe and the next exhale broke into a small sob. You stared with wide eyes at the scratched wall and let the trickle of stinging tears exhaust itself.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you mumbled in a thin, small voice, not sure any more whether it was directed at yourself, at him, or at the whole messed up situation in general.

You realised that you must have taken way longer than you anticipated when after pulling yourself back together and making yourself more or less presentable, you discovered that the coworkers couple had left. Even your drink wasn’t on the table any more, not that you’d drink it if it was still there.

“Hi there! You look so lonely, how ‘bout I get you one?”

You flinched when a heavy hand fell on your shoulder and you immediately ducked from under it. The guy was tall, skinny, and with an expression that classified him as no one you’d like to hang out around.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” you muttered and turned towards the exit.

“Come on, just one?” He grinned at you ingratiatingly, swinging around to cut through your trajectory. “One won’t hurt. I’m a nice guy, come on.”

“No, thank you,” you repeated, “my boyfriend is waiting for me.”

“Aww, don’t be like this…” His grin faltered a little and he grasped your shoulder again. “Just one? Be a nice girl, let me-”

“Don’t you know what ‘no’ means, mister?”

The slimy hand was lifted from your shoulder but that wasn’t why your knees almost buckled. It was about _who_ clenched their fist on the annoying guy’s wrist and who had told him to back off.

The pest ran a line of filthy slurs at you and took a step away, but the grip on his wrist tightened, making him hiss in pain.

“Now comes the part where you apologise,” Mibuchi prompted coldly. He grasped your hand with his free one, but that touch, while still firm, was incomparably gentler.

The guy spluttered out a forced ‘sorry’ and stumbled away once his wrist was released. Mibuchi stared at his hand that had been holding him with disgust. He let go of you to pull out a tissue and thoroughly wipe his palm.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, staring at your shoes.

Mibuchi balled up the used tissue and threw it into a nearby bin from where he was standing.

“You’re welcome.”

Your heart squeezed painfully at how his voice remained aloof, like the whole incident was nothing more than an inconvenience to him. Your chin shook and you nodded, resuming your march towards the door without any further communication, digging your nails into the insides of your palms. You hoped that pain could distract you from how broken you were all over again, but despite that blood began trickling down onto your knuckles, your head was still full of poisonous fog.

The door closed behind you and you were left on your own in the cold night. People were passing by, paying you no attention, and all you wanted to do was to sit down and crawl into a dark corner to scrape your throat raw with sobs.

Then the door opened and for a fraction of a second you were scared that the insolent man went after you, but it wasn’t him.

A mix of relief and anguish spread to the ends of your nerves.

Mibuchi grabbed your hand and pulled you after him, down the street, between the dense crowds. You had a million questions swarming in your mind, but none made it onto your tongue in the time it took to get to a nearby park, desolated at such late hour, and you could only think how much you missed the touch of that soft, flawlessly maintained skin.

He halted by a large pond, white puffs of breath leaving his mouth in the freezing air. He glared at you in outrage and disbelief and let go of your hand.

“ _What were you doing there alone?!_ ” he hissed.

It wasn’t outrage.

He was furious.

“I wasn’t alone!” you protested fiercely, suddenly feeling a surge of anger yourself. “And what is your business in what I do anyway?! Thanks for helping me out, but I don’t see the point of you asking me this!”

Your throat clenched and you knew there were tears coming already. This was too much, you were too exhausted, too hurt, and your composure was as tough as the paper tissue that Mibuchi had discarded in the bar.

“Do you realise what could’ve happened to you?!” Mibuchi’s voice rose as well and you flinched, more so when he leaned towards you, towering over you with all the anger blazing in his fox eyes.

He took a deep breath to yell something more, but it hitched at your reaction and no word came out of his mouth. The raging fire in his stare died out and turned to ash in a blink.

“I frightened you,” he stated quietly. He stepped back and averted his gaze, choosing to observe the ground under his feet instead. “I apologise, my lo-”

Mibuchi cut the rest of his line, pressing the top of his palm over his mouth. Your heart skipped a beat and then sent a wave of pain that stung your eyes and froze you in place. You shuddered and choked on your breath. You covered your eyes with your hand, digging your fingernails into your skin so hard it hurt, your face twisted in an anguished grimace.

“R-Re-Reeeooo…” you whimpered weakly. Tears ran down your cheeks from underneath your palm. “Reooo…” You sank to a squat and tugged strands of your hair in your fists. He was just a step away, but you felt abandoned, you felt alone and alienated, desperate. “Don’t leave meee… Don’t leave…”

Your voice was withering, thinning, and you weren’t able to control the sobs that were shaking your whole body and made your lungs cry for air that your shallow, too quick breathing couldn’t deliver enough. You would give anything to at least touch him with your fingertips, to see his adoring smile for a second, to hear from him one word without the aloof tone.

“I c-can’t,” you stuttered through clenched teeth. “I can’t do it any more… Can’t we start over? Please… please…”

The few frail stitches that you had managed to sew over the gashes in your heart were being ripped apart, but your throat was too raw to let out anything louder than a feeble lament.

You heard leather soles shuffle against the fallen leaves.

You opened your sore eyes and you saw Mibuchi’s shoes right in front of you for a moment before he knelt down on the ground.

“Let’s do that,” he whispered shakily.

You wailed and let yourself be pulled forward, to have Mibuchi’s fingers card through your hair and press your head to his shoulder. He trembled, he must have been crying soundlessly while he buried his face in your hair and wrapped his arms tightly around you like he was afraid you would disappear.

“I’m not letting you go again,” he murmured. He kissed the top of your head and cupped your face in one hand to look into your eyes. His eyelashes were heavy with tears. He grazed his thumb over your cheek. “We’ll sort everything out.”

His breath ghosted over your lips right before he brushed them gently with his own, soft and warm despite the cold night air.

You sank your fingers into his silky hair with a sigh and the kiss turned into a mess.

Mibuchi gasped into your mouth and shifted you onto his lap, gripping his hand on your hip and the other at your shoulder. You both lost the awareness that despite the late hour and empty area, you were still in public and it was no place to desperately hold onto each other and kiss like your lives depended on it.

“I love you,” he uttered against your lips. “I love you, I love you-” He covered your mouth again and slipped his tongue inside with a muffled groan. “I love you…” He tilted your chin up with the pads of his fingers and trailed searing hot kisses down your throat while his other hand slowly slid from your hip to your thigh.

You spread your fingers on his chest above his heart, feeling his racing pulse that matched yours. Mibuchi’s hand slipped under the hem of your dress and ran up your thigh far enough for his fingertips to touch you through your tights and underwear and you moaned against his lips.

“H-home,” you gasped. “Let’s go home.”

You got to your feet, panting, holding onto his arm since you weren’t convinced that you could keep your balance stable. 

Then you took a step forward. Hand in hand. Then a second one.

Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to mention that I'm fully aware that Mibuchi is canonically interested in someone on his team, and _it's not a joke_. I'm going to fight anyone who'd like to argue about that, come at me, I'm almost 6'2" and you'll be crying. I've seen in a number of fics being this either completely dismissed or, for fuck's sake, made to be a misunderstanding, a prank, or straight up "ew no, how could you think I was queer," which makes me extremely pissed. Like no tomorrow. As someone who identifies as pansexual and who had dated girls, boys, and non-binary people throughout my life, I personally headcanon Reo on the pan/bi spectrum. You are obviously free to think whatever you like, but please refrain from being rude about it. That's all I ask.
> 
> On a lighter note, I weep over his drastic haircut in Last Game. I weep bitter tears.


	5. Takao Kazunari - Lights Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make use of the extraordinary situation to stargaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Details:** General Audiences. Fluff. Gender neutral reader. [On tumblr here.](http://aeteru.tumblr.com/post/162567758830/teru-senpaaaiiii-can-i-please-request-hawk)
> 
>  **Request:** Teru-senpaaaiiii can I please request Hawk Eye-kun?? I don't have any particular scenario in mind, but I really want something plain and beautiful but really moving and heart-wrenching? Not angst, more like, maybe realizing just how much he loves his s/o even while doing mundane things. Something like that huehue ._. I hope it's ok and not vague or confusing. Thank you!!

Takao sat down next to you on the balcony. He closed his eyes for a moment and smiled when you leaned your head on his shoulder.

The cicadas and crickets were filling the night air with their play, braiding together with the ghost of the wind brushing through the trees. The lights were out - out in the suburbs, out in the entire town, maybe out in the whole prefecture or perhaps the country, or even in the entirety of the world for the two of you.

“I would’ve never thought I’d see so many stars from here,” you said quietly. “It changed the place so much. That, and of course the…”

You gestured vaguely towards the light-less structures stretching out in the dark. You knew those were houses, offices, cafes, and schools, and bus stops, and corner shops, but without electricity, they transformed into an indistinguishable mass of angular shapes. No cars engines running, no trains, no radio or tv, no people outside. No torches, no phones. No candles.

Takao pressed his cheek to the side of your head and hummed in agreement. Little he could see without the moon in the sky, otherwise he would’ve stared at you rather than at the stars. He said that out loud.

“And before you say something about me being cheesy,” he added right after, snaking his hand behind you to wrap it around your shoulders, “I should have you know that I have the full right to be ridiculously cheesy with you. Yep, that’s how it is. No returns. And yesterday…” he trailed off. “Hmm.”

“Yesterday?” you repeated sleepily.

“Tired?” he asked. “I’m all set for that. I even got you a pillow. And a blanket.”

“Prepared for anything, hmm?” you whispered with a smile ringing in your voice.

With a thick blanket on top of it, the floor of the tiny balcony wasn’t so hard. It was still warm from the accumulated Summer sunlight, so with a pillow under your heads and limbs tangled together it was easy to drift off, lulled by each other’s slow breaths, and the cicadas, and the crickets, and the wind.

“I don’t remember,” Takao murmured. “Yesterday. I don’t remember.”

He was sure you didn’t remember either. He cuddled you closer and stroked your hair, watching the stars and smiling with a corner of his mouth when you mumbled his name in your sleep.

“Isn’t it strange how it seems that there is no one out there except us? It should be strange, I think.”

He kissed the top of your head and yawned.

“Prepared for anything, hmm,” he said after you. “Only if you’re here.”


	6. Mibuchi Reo - Paper Crane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mibuchi always looks forward to your visits. He can take care of your hair, talk, watch, and smell. One day the visits stop…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Details:** Explicit. Light angst. Explicit descriptions of gore. Mentions of abuse. Swearing. Yandere tones. A bit of unhinged fluff? What do I even call that. Gender neutral reader. [On tumblr here.](http://aeteru.tumblr.com/post/162801872125/the-7th-of-july-is-my-most-beloved-gorgeous)
> 
> This was not written as a request. (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)♡
> 
> This gets pretty graphic and has some yandere in it, though it’s completely consensual between Mibuchi and the reader. It’s a fucked up relationship, so, you know… don’t take it as an example for your life. You’ve been warned.

Mibuchi could say without hesitation that he did like humans.

No, he did not mean it as a favourite dish. At least _not only_ like that.

Tens of them were coming every day to have their hair done, from reluctant children led by their mothers to old ladies requesting perms. He could listen to their life stories, their complaints about _that neighbour that should keep it down_ or about _mother-in-law that hates anything I cook_ , or about _that old cat that always sleeps on the hood of the new car and leaves footprints, good god…_

He also had a whole profile he made up for answering their questions, _of course, my mother is doing well, magnificently even, her surgery went fine; no, no, last Summer I stayed home, maybe this year I’ll go to Hokkaido, my favourite food is strawberry short cake but I don’t like strawberries tomorrow my cousin and aunt visit and I still didn’t have time to clean up this weekend always so busy I’m goingtoKyotoyesterdayIsawthatwonderfulmovieat…_ and that was very entertaining in itself.

The certificates he put on the wall — not all of them fake, actually, he did manage to go to a couple of places — were signed for “Higuchi Hiro”.

Mibuchi liked lying almost as much as humans.

He used to run the shop with a fellow ghoul that he had never bothered to ask for the real name, but one Tuesday the guy was leaving work in the afternoon as usual, and on the following Wednesday morning he didn’t show up — not back then, not any time since. The runaway ghoul’s nickname was Grey Reaper. Mibuchi’s stomach churned every time when he thought how kitschy it was.

Keeping up with the business by himself was tiresome, so he employed a human, a pragmatic named Hyūga Junpei, and things were back to going smoothly. Hyūga even preferred taking care of short hair, which worked perfectly with Mibuchi — running his slender fingers through long strands of human-smelling hair was _e n j o y a b l e_.

“Boss Higuchi, excuse me.”

Mibuchi put down his shopping list, _for hell’s sake, they were running out of the steel hairpins again, he could swear they had a whole box delivered two weeks ago_ , and looked up at Hyūga.

“Your client for Friday 2:30 PM cancelled.”

_2:30 PM. Oh._

“I see.” Mibuchi sighed. “Call Mrs. Yamamoto Yukiko from next week Tuesday 11:45 AM and ask if she’d like to reschedule in that place, if you will. I recall she mentioned having it off work from Thursday on.”

_Did something happen, Love Dear?_

_Did my Precious Gem catch a cold?_

_Were you denied taking the afternoon off, Darling?_

_I was looking forward to getting my hands on You._

_No one has such soft, shiny, perfect hair as You._

“Will do, Boss.”

“Were you given a reason?” Mibuchi asked indifferently, folding his list and slipping it into his pocket.

“No.” Hyūga glanced up from the schedule book. “Should I have asked?”

“Of course not,” Mibuchi scoffed. “Did you offer a change of date?”

“Yes. The client didn’t want to, Boss.”

That _stung_.

It had been 32 days since the last time you had come for your routine fix. You always visited no less than once every 21 days. Sometimes more.

_Did that human piece of shit You call your partner forbid You to come?_

Mibuchi involuntarily crumpled the note in his fist. He took a deep breath through his nose and smiled back at an old lady that was waiting 12 more minutes for her dark brown dye to take proper effect.

_Are You sleeping well?_

_My sweet, sweet, sweet Paper Crane._

He knew that you didn’t have to come so often. He knew that you took magnificent care of your hair by yourself and you probably could have trimmed your ends on your own as well. He knew that it was because you liked coming.

He knew when the bruises started appearing on your skin, well hidden under your clothes as long as someone wasn’t standing right behind you when you were sitting, as long as that someone didn’t peek underneath your collar, as long as that someone wouldn’t put two and two together after noticing dark blotches on your back. He knew when you stopped visiting alone and there was the same person waiting outside for you. He knew when the same person started waiting inside, standing next to the queue chairs. He knew when that person started stepping closer, one visit, one step. He knew when someone was almost standing behind his back. 

Mibuchi knew who was responsible.

You knew that he noticed. That much was obvious.

The last time you came, you slipped him a note. You left it on the chair, when your arms were hidden under the red cape, when you waited, checking in the mirror if the person behind you was not looking.

_I will be waiting here tomorrow after you close._

You didn’t appear. You weren’t waiting for him. That was 31 days ago. 6 days ago, you called to book an appointment and Mibuchi’s insides almost melted when he heard your voice. So soft, so soft. Soft like the shapes of your body that should only be allowed to be touched with utmost care, most tenderly, with feather-light touch.

He wanted to sink his fingers into the flesh of that person, rip out the guts, push them down that wretched throat, tear the lips, tear the cheeks, the gums and expose the teeth, stab his fingernails into the eye sockets and scramble the eyes, watch them spill down that disgusting face.

He wanted to be allowed to give you the gentlest of kisses, to hold you lovingly and let his hands wander all over your bare skin, your soft shapes, hear you sigh and see you blush, and run his fingers through your hair, bury his nose in it and inhale until his lungs almost burst.

_That screwed up human piece of shit has no clue how to treat a Deity. MY Deity. MINE. That rotting vile doesn’t deserve You, doesn’t deserve You, doesn’t deserve You, should just disappear, be gone, rot, decompose in a garbage dump, have worms and rats turn it into nothing._

You came that Friday. The 34th day.

Mibuchi was sipping on his sixth coffee, sitting in front of the mirror late into the afternoon, fifteen minutes after he flipped the sign on the door to CLOSED. He wasn’t looking at himself. He stuck your note to the glass and he traced every sign with his index finger. He was so deprived of your presence that he started smelling your scent even though you weren’t there. Lurking across the street from your flat and hoping to see you in the window wasn’t enough, following you unnoticed to your workplace in the morning wasn’t enough and neither was appraising your single hair he decided to keep after pulling it off the comb.

_No._

Mibuchi wasn’t imagining it.

He raised his head and saw you in the mirror, saw you looking into the room through the glass door. He realised why he could catch your scent even through a barrier; there was a streak of dark red running down your chin and staining the front of your shirt. His breath fell heavy and he had to keep his eyes from turning black at the sight. You smelled so delicious it made him want to cry.

_My Deity isn’t a Paper Crane, but a whole Thousand of them._

He let you in and urged you into the back room. Your lip was cut and horribly bruised, an obvious result of being punched, just like the swelling by your right eye.

You were watching him tiredly. He offered you his usual armchair and you dropped down, hands folded in your lap and head hung low. Mibuchi sat down on his heels right before you and took your hand in both of his.

So soft, so soft.

“Make it go away, please,” you whispered. “Please, Higuchi.”

“It’s Reo.”

You seemed confused, but it only flashed in your eyes for a second, replaced by unhinged acceptance. He raised your hand and gently brushed your knuckles with his lips.

“Make it disappear,” you said. “Make it disappear, Reo.”

“As you wish,” he purred. Your eyes turned warm, so warm, and he dared to stray from your knuckles and kiss the underside of your wrist, feeling your pulse. “Anything for you, my Love Dearest. Anything, my Beloved.”

You leaned down, cupped his cheek with your free hand, and lifted his head.

“That makes me happy,” you murmured.

Mibuchi smiled lovingly and licked his lips before he pressed them to yours, groaning deep in his chest when he tasted the dried up blood.

* * *

Mibuchi could say without hesitation that he did like humans.

That was why to him, you were not one of them.


End file.
